


The Origins

by obsidianfr3ak



Series: The origins of the Renegades [1]
Category: Renegades - Marissa Meyer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25123756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsidianfr3ak/pseuds/obsidianfr3ak
Summary: Before the Renegades put an end to the Age of Anarchy, they were six kids trying to survive day by day in a city ruled by chaos and desolation. Is there a space for hope and kindness somewhere in Gatlon City? Maybe.
Series: The origins of the Renegades [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929595
Kudos: 19





	1. Simon: The world that's waiting up for me

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fanfic for the fandom. I had always been intrigued by the Age of Anarchy and especially how the renegade council lived during those times. This is going to have 6 chapters, one for each member of the original team. It's not gonna be something with a lot of action or anything, just how I think they all met and their lives before becoming legends. 
> 
> Also, I want to clarify English is not my first language, so I'm still getting used to the punctuation rules and grammar. I tried to edit this like a thousand times, but if I missed anything, I apologize, I hope to improve with time. 
> 
> Anyways, follow me on Tumblr (I have the same nickname) and enjoy it!

_**Age of Anarchy** _

_**Year 2** _

He was running at full speed. The air was cold and burned his throat each time he needed to breathe. His legs had started to hurt two blocks ago because of the hits he received during his fight with Freud, but Simon wasn’t going to stop now. He was leading the run.

He turned what he believed to be a corner, and ran into a dead end. Then, he looked around, hoping to realize that his brain was fooling him into seeing that, but no. There were four boxes full of rotten fruit, an enormous closet, and dozens of black bags…

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

It was obvious Freud had seen him get into that alley. Surely he was already fantasizing with the one hundred ways he was going to torture Simon as soon as he got his hands on him.

Simon heard his haunter’s fast and threatening footsteps. He analyzed his options once again. Boxes, bags, closet…

He stepped into a little puddle in his way to the closet. Closed its doors so fast, that he almost hurt his fingers. The closet wasn’t that large, so he had to remain still, so that damn old piece of furniture wouldn’t fall into pieces.

His socks were wet. Those were his best socks.

There was a minuscule space between the doors that allow him to see Freud running into the same dead-end Simon had.

But, instead of being confused, Freud grinned. The blood coming out his nose had dried and, with his crooked teeth, his appearance was even scarier than normal.

Simon still didn’t fully understand where he had gotten the courage to turn around and punch him right on the face. Laura had told him not to do that.

“Never hit the nose, Simon. You could kill someone.”

But Simon had done it. He had disobeyed Laura.

Laura had also advised him not to hear what Fred had to say about him. It was simpler than what he expected; Simon could bear with dignity all the comments about his ragged clothes, his old shoes, or his not so good looks. He could even bear when Freud started calling him “rat” and all his classmates followed the trend.

Laura would be so disappointed at him for using brute strength before words. His mother would be too. His father probably would say something between the lines: “My boy finally is starting to turn into a real man”, and the baby… well, she wouldn’t say anything. She was a baby.

But what Freud had said to him…

It comforted him knowing that if Laura had heard what Freud said, she would have hit him too.

“Where are you, little rat?” asked Freud with a trace of mockery in his words. “Look at you. Running. Like a rat. Like your whore sister.”

The day was gray. A faint ray of light illuminated the blade of the jackknife Freud held. The image of that blade stabbing Simon in the chest, was enough for him to not get out of his hide spot and broke Freud’s nose.

“They said she tried to run,” Freud keep saying while he looked for him in a big trashcan, “but I don’t think so. I think she even enjoyed it.”

Freud kicked the boxes. Yeah, because Simon was hiding between that old fruit.

“And even if she hadn’t, I say it again: she deserved it,” Freud sentenced, disgusted by the stench that the fruits emanated. “Prodigies like her had always been freaks. Dangerous freaks. I don’t fucking care how many Ace fucking Anarchy appear to defend you and try to scare the shit out of us, we won’t bow before you. Do you hear me? WE WON’T BOW!”

Simon wasn’t a prodigy. Laura’s powers were creating bubbles. Since when bubbles were dangerous? Since when being able to make them out of thin air was an excuse to kill someone the way they killed his sister?

Before he realized, Freud’s eyes met his.

He had found him.

“No one humiliates me and lives to tell the story, rat.”

Freud opened the door wide, and Simon was ready to be stabbed when a third figure appeared behind the older boy.

“That wasn’t a nice thing to say.”

Freud frowned. He cleaned the blood off his face, and slowly turn around to see the face of the one who dared to defy him. Simon couldn’t help but poke his head over his bully’s shoulder.

He was a blond kid, not older than him. He wore black frame glasses, attached with a piece of tape. His blue eyes looked at Freud with disapproval with which no one had ever dared to look at him.

“Do I know you?” asked Freud after laughing his ass off.

“I’m just saying that, if you have a problem with someone, you report that person with the school’s authorities,” the blonde boy kept saying, ignoring Freud’s question. “It’s not good taking justice into your own hands. It just causes more trouble.”

“Shut up!” Freud screamed as he pushed the blonde boy into the same pond Simon had stepped in a few moments back.

The most surprising thing, however, wasn’t how calm the boy looked when he was facing Freud. It was that he never stopped talking.

“Is that a jackknife?” he asked. Freud looked at the object he carried “Do you take it with you to school? Sharp weapons are not allowed inside school grounds. I’m afraid I’m going to tell a teacher about this.”

Freud cried with hatred and lunged at him, the jackknife ready to kill him. However, the blade broke as soon as it made contact with the blond boy's side.

Before he could process what had just happened, a silver stake sprang out of nowhere and narrowly pierced Freud's shoulder. He managed to move just in time for it to only leave a deep cut.

Simon wouldn’t deny it: Freud almost getting pierced by a stake gave him a morbid sense of satisfaction. His scared, hurt, and confused gaze almost made him cry of pure happiness. How blissful (and relieved) he felt when Freud ran away from the scene.

Just like a scared rat.

The blond boy had dropped shoulders and glasses on the tip of his nose. From his looks, he looked like one of the sons of those businessmen, who lived in those big houses in the northwest of the city. However, his clothes were as old as Simon's. He looked apprehensively at the stake as drops of blood stained his gray sneakers. He didn't see that he had it while he was reading Freud about good behavior, and it was too big to keep in his pockets. It was as if he had created it out of nothing.

And maybe he had.

Immediately, he regained composure and smiled.

“You can go out now!” he exclaimed animatedly. “He's gone”

Didn't he see him standing in that old closet? He was literally in front of him.

As if hearing his thoughts, the blond boy turned to the closet and his face lit up. Simon wanted to run away when he saw him approach with abnormal enthusiasm on his part, but there was nowhere to move.

“Amazing!” the boy yelled. He looked in all directions and muttered, “You are like me.”

“Sorry?”

“Don't be scared, I'm with you,” he whispered. “My name is Hugh.”

He held out his hand. Simon accepted it out of sheer courtesy.

“How old are you?”

“Eight.”

“I had never met a prodigy my age.”

“I am not a prodigy,” Simon clarified.

Hugh's smile froze.

“But I just saw you use your powers.”

“I run very fast to run away from the gangsters,” he said sarcastically. “It comes naturally.”

He gave a loud laugh. Making him laugh was not his intention at all.

“No, I am talking about the other power.”

“What other power?”

“That you turn invisible!”

Hugh quickly covered his mouth and Simon released his hand. He hadn't realized all the time he had been holding it until now. Hugh had a very strong grip.

“Sorry, it was not my intention to shout it,” he mumbled. “I know that sometimes it is better to go unnoticed.”

“Have you stabbed someone else?”

His smile disappeared for a moment.

“I usually don’t do that.”

He did not believe him. There were times when people sometimes had to do things to survive that they were not proud of. But, well, Hugh could continue lying to himself. It was not his job to get him out of his bubble.

“Freud deserved that and more.”

Hugh looked up to protest, but instead said:

“You’ve done it again!”

_To hell with this._

Simon raised his arms to push him away, just to realize he was wrong: Hugh was not crazy.

His hands... his entire body was completely invisible.

He moved his fingers and felt the movement. Then his legs. The atmosphere seemed to distort slightly every time he moved. He blinked hard, hoping that when he opened his eyes again, he would realize that it was all a dream, and he was lying down, with his sister preparing to take him to school.

However, he opened them and his sister was not there. He guessed then, neither did his mother.

It was just him and Hugh.

_This can’t be true._

His mother and Laura were the only prodigies in the family. They always knew that there was a possibility that Simon was a prodigy too, but after a certain time, they began to realize that he wasn't. Before she died, his mother said she hoped the baby wasn't a prodigy, either. It was best for everyone.

Now, his family's worst nightmares had come true. How was he going to explain to his father what had just happened? How was he going to react? Was he going to kick his son out of the house? If that happened, where would he go? What was to become of him?

He was panicking, and Hugh wouldn't stop looking at him like he was a Christmas present under the tree. That didn’t help.

His hands appeared.

“Your power is so cool,” said Hugh.

“I swear to you, this is the first time I've done this,” he whispered.

Again, the frozen smile.

“Are you serious?”

“Completely serious.”

Hugh adjusted his glasses, shocked.

“I'm sorry,” he said awkwardly.

“Why?”

“Because... this is not how origin stories should be,” he replied.

Oh, that.

“It doesn't matter,” he replied. He wasn’t lying, the topic never concerned him. However, now he had the feeling that he should be concerned.

“I've seen you at school,” said Hugh, trying to change the subject.

“Yes, I am the rat,” he blurted out angrily.

Hugh shook his head.

“I wasn't going to say that. You're Simon Westwood,” he corrected him. “You're Laura Westwood's brother. She worked at the pawnshop.”

“I _was_ her brother,” he corrected.

“You _are_ her brother.”

Simon did not want to continue arguing. He had already realized that it was not worth trying to win an argument over that guy.

“Did you create that stake?” he asked. “I mean, out of the blue?”

“Yes…” he replied showing him the stake. “I'm not proud. It's just that sometimes when someone attacks me like that, they just... appear? Like a defense mechanism or something. But I'm working on it.”

“What is it made of?”

“Chromium. That’s what my auntie says.”

Simon looked at the stake. There it was again, that morbid feeling…

“I've never seen a prodigy using their powers for good,” said Simon thoughtfully.

“I didn't do something good,” Hugh replied. “I almost killed someone”

Laura would have said, “Please, a shoulder injury doesn't kill anyone.” But Simon said:

“You would have done the right thing killing him.”

“What did he do to you?”

Oh, boy, what he hadn't done to him.

The insults, the teasing. Although, the beating was something new. Freud must have been bored of not receiving any reaction with the verbal attacks, so they evolved into physical attacks. The first was after Laura's funeral.

How crazy do you have to be to do that to someone who had just lost his sister?

That had been going on for two weeks now, and Simon put up with it, just like before. But he was never going to allow anyone to mess with her family.

“He said Laura deserved it,” he replied.

Hugh went silent.

He heard a pair of thunder in the distance.

“We should go to our houses,” said Simon.

He stood up and went to the street. Freud's jackknife was on the ground. The blade was next to the red, plastic handle. He took both of them very carefully and put them back together. It wasn't tight at all and surely was going to break in the slightest attempt to cut something or attack someone, but it was still menacing.

Without much thought, he picked it up and put it in his pocket. Just in case.

“Hey,” Hugh called out, still sitting in the closet. Simon turned to see “Where do you live?”

“Over there,” and pointed to his right.

Hugh smiled again. He hadn't realized he had dimples on his cheeks. Surely they had formed it after giving away so many smiles.

“What a coincidence,” he said. “Me too”.

Then Simon smiled back at him. It was an honest smile.

When was the last time he had smiled like that?


	2. Georgia: The world that we design

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today’s protagonist is... GEORGIA RAWLES, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. I think you can already tell that I am kind of pairing the OG team with each other (not in a romantic way, I swear) so those two member’s stories will totally be related, but all of them are interconnected in one way or another. The next chapter will be from Kasumi’s perspective, then Evander’s, Tamaya and last, but not least, Hugh. 
> 
> Also, Grammarly is a bitch, so if anyone can recommend me a good English grammar checker, I will be forever grateful.

**Age of Anarchy**

**Year 3**

Her mother had been very clear to her. Georgia couldn't tell anyone what they were going to do Saturday morning at the Rae house. She couldn't tell her classmates, her teachers, or the gardener with whom she got along so well. If she told anyone, her mother promised that she would burn each of her mystery books and all of her dolls in the fireplace. Georgia knew that her mother was not one to make promises that they would not keep. It was not worth the risk.

After making her swear that she would keep the secret, she told her to choose a toy or a book that she wanted to show Tamaya Rae. Georgia let out a startled cry and started asking hundreds of questions: What was Tamaya Rae like? Had she seen her? How old was she? Was she as pretty as Mrs. Rae, or did she have Mr. Rae's hideous nose? Why did she never leave her home? Was it because of her allergy to the sun? How can you be allergic to the sun?

Her mother lost her patience and sent her to her room.

"Young girls should not bother their mothers with so many questions," she exclaimed.

Georgia tightened her jaw. If her father had been there, he would have defended her. He always let her ask all the questions she wanted.

On Saturday, before leaving, she looked in the huge mirror they had in the living room. With her pink dress and pearl hair clips, it was almost as if Ace Anarchy had not taken over the city three years ago.

Were they poor? No. Georgia went to a private school, her house was in a decent area, and they could even afford to have a maid and a gardener. She knew they were rich. But they used to be even richer.

As soon as they arrived, an employee opened the door to the garden of the Rae house. It used to be prettier, but they still had those roses that she liked so much. That, and the small tower that protruded from the ceiling, gave it an enchanted castle look, perfect setting for the scandalous murder of the king's lover.

"You're right," her mom laughed. “Just don’t tell Tamaya you said that.” And she rang.

Georgia looked out into the garden once more. There was a space where a car would fit perfectly, but there was no car. She didn't think it was because they didn't have one. She had seen the Rae arrive at the church in a dented (but elegant) black car.

Before she can ask her mother, Mrs. Rae opened the door.

"Hello Tara," she greeted with a smile on her red lips. "Good morning Georgia. Come in, come in."

The Rae family had managed to keep their most beautiful things. The ones that caught her attention the most were the chandelier, an old piano, green velvet armchairs, and an antique porcelain vase. Mrs. Rae was talking to her mother when Georgia asked:

"Where's Tamaya?"

Her mother seemed shocked at the interruption, but Mrs. Rae was very light about it.

"Oh sure," she whispered. "Come, follow me. Tara, my dear, why don't you go ahead in the kitchen? Tea should be ready by now."

Tara took one last look at her daughter before leaving.

Mrs. Rae guided her to the second floor. There was a hallway full of doors, but one stood out from all of them. It was silver with carved emerald details. Behind it, there was a large circular room, with five-meter bookcases covering her even higher walls and a larger bed than Georgia's, covered in cushions with too much lace.

She was watching how the tower was on the inside.

_It would be a much prettier room if it wasn't dark._

"Tamaya, your friend has arrived."

Mrs. Rae turned on the light. As soon as her eyes managed to experience the new lighting, Georgia understood why Tamaya did not go to school with her.

Sitting around a crowd of dolls, sipping tea among them, Tamaya Rae looked at her with those amber eyes, identical to her mother's. She wore a green floral dress and her dark hair fell gently over her shoulders. She would have looked angelic, if not for the satiety in her gaze and the huge black wings that came out of her back.

"Tamaya, this is Georgia," said Mrs. Rae with a light push, "Tara Rawle's daughter."

"Hello…”

Tamaya did not change her expression.

"Well, have fun," exclaimed Mrs. Rae after ten seconds of awkward silence. There was too much joy in her words to be true. "Tamaya, behave yourself."

Georgia believed that when Mrs. Rae left, Tamaya was going to pounce on her and rip the skin off her face. Fortunately, that was not the case.

She did nothing.

Literally nothing. She just kept watching her in complete silence.

“Hi Tamaya," Georgia said a little more confidently than before." I'm Georgia. "

"I know."

"Um…"

Tamaya lost interest in her and returned her attention to her dolls. They were drinking real tea.

"Can I join your tea party?" Georgia asked.

"It is not a tea party," Tamaya snapped annoyed, "it is a gathering of the Gatlon City Detective Department."

"Can I join the Gatlon City Detective Department meeting?"

"I'm afraid only those who are part of the department can participate. It is a very important case. I'm sorry."

From her tone of voice, Georgia doubted she was sorry. But she liked that game.

"What do I have to do to join the department, then?"

"We have no openings at this time."

Georgia took a doll with golden curls and said in an extremely shrill voice:

"I quit, Detective Rae, I can't take it anymore."

She dropped the doll onto the bed. To her surprise, Tamaya was unimpressed by a magnificent imitation of a doll's voice. What's more, she looked more fed up than ever.

"You can't join the department. It's my last word."

For some reason, those words hurt Georgia more than she expected. But, as her mother said, it was not worth staying in a place where they did not want her.

"Well, I didn't even want to join anyway," she spat, clutching at her purse.

"Perfect. It looks like we're both on the same page."

"That's right! And playing with dolls is for little girls. I'm already a woman. I had my first period two weeks ago."

"I had mine three weeks ago," said Tamaya. "And frankly, you're not behaving like a woman right now."

Georgia knew she couldn't go out and tell her mother that she already wanted to leave. But she would no longer stand to be with a girl as rude and cruel as Tamaya Rae. Therefore, she decided to fly off and sit on one of the wooden beams that supported the roof of the tower. She took her book out of the purse and began to read it, willing to stay there the rest of the two hours they were going be in that house, without speaking to Tamaya again.

However, she immediately noticed Tamaya was looking at her, with her jaw dropped to the floor.

"What?" Georgia asked from the wooden beam.

"You can fly," Tamaya stammered.

Georgia shrugged like it wasn't a big deal.

"You are a prodigy."

She didn’t answer.

"But then why do you look so...?"

Suspense.

"So what?" she asked. Curiosity was going to kill her if she didn't ask.

"So normal?"

Georgia frowned.

"What do you mean normal?"

"My mom says prodigies always have something that gives them away," she replied. "An unusual eye color, hands too big or ... well, you know."

"Wings."

Tamaya nodded. Georgia had never heard anything so stupid. (Or maybe she had, but she was too upset with Tamaya to remember.)

"Well, your mom is a liar."

Tamaya threw a marble at her with such force that it hit her knee.

"My mom is not a liar!"

"Sorry, but prodigies are not too different from other people," Georgia replied. "What she told you is untrue. How do you call that? I will tell you: it is called a lie. Therefore, your mom is a liar. I rest my case.”

For a second, Tamaya's expression seemed sad.

"But _I am_ too different."

That was when Georgia understood it. It was not just any lie; it was a white lie. Of those that she constantly said. _"That dress fits her very well, ma'am." "Oh, but of course I like the bean stew, sir." "Yes, I have studied for the exam, teacher."_

"A lie is still a lie, Georgia," she imagined her father reminding her, "no matter what the intention."

"You're not that different," said Georgia.

"Now you are the liar."

"I am not a liar," she defended herself.

"Tell me then. What makes me not that different?”

Georgia thought she would have to use all the skills she had in telling white lies. She stared at the girl below her for a good ten seconds, before realizing there would probably be no need to lie.

"You have pretty hair," said Georgia. "And your dress is beautiful. It shows you have an excellent sense of fashion."

Tamaya smiled.

"You also have a good sense of fashion. I can tell because of your underpants."

Georgia flushed and crossed her legs.

"Tamaya, you creep!”

Tamaya laughed out loud, and Georgia soon joined her. She had to admit it was funny.

"I hardly like wearing dresses," she explained. "They are very uncomfortable to use when I fly."

"I don't like dresses at all," Tamaya replied, "but my mom says I look prettier with them."

“Well, mine says true beauty is within. Wear whatever you want.

"Do you wear whatever you want?"

Georgia nodded.

"What do you use for flying?"

"When I fly, it is at home, when my mother is not around," he explained. "Pants are the most appropriate clothes for flying. What do you use to fly?"

"I do not know how to do it."

Georgia pretended to pass out from the shock.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. My dad won't let me," Tamaya explained sadly. "He thinks I should keep my feet on the ground.”

"Literally."

"Literally, yes."

"That’s unfair.”

"He doesn't know you're here either."

Georgia almost passed out, but this time, for real.

"How so?"

"Yes. My mom invited you because she thought it was a good idea that I talk with someone who doesn't have a head made of plastic," Tamaya explained. "But my dad didn't want to."

"Your dad sounds like a bad guy," she snapped.

For a second, she believed Tamaya would throw her another marble. Instead, she shrugged and muttered:

"He probably is."

"And what did you want?"

"About what?"

"Did you want me to come to play?"

"I didn't care," Tamaya replied. "My dolls have been my only friends in these twelve years of my life, and they have never disappointed me. They could have remained my friends for much longer."

She did not believe it. If she had to be locked in a room, with the dolls as her only company, she would probably go crazy. Of course, she loved her dolls, but not that much. Also, she did not want Tamaya to go crazy. Although her teachers told her that she had a strange ability to drive crazy everyone who ran into her. However, she was sure they used "drive crazy" in the good sense of the word.

She got off the beam and took the doll she had left on the bed.

"What did you say?" she asked the doll. She brought her face close to her ear like the doll was telling her a secret. "Are you sure that's what you want? Okay, I'll let her know." Tamaya looked puzzled. "Detective Egerton says she is very sorry that things ended like this between her and the Detective Department. She knows she cannot fix her mistakes, but she has chosen me as her replacement." She looked at the doll once more, wiping the fake tears from her cheeks. "Oh, you don't know how honored I am, Stella. I promise I'll make you proud."

"Molly," Tamaya corrected.

"Oh, you don't know how honored I am, Molly," Georgia repeated. "I promise I’ll make you proud."

"Okay, Georgia, you can join the team," Tamaya agreed. "But with one condition."

"What is that condition?"

Tamaya slightly flapped her wings. She had a spark in her eyes.

A spark of madness.

"That you teach me how to fly."

Georgia did not stop to think about the problem she would have with the Rae if they discovered she was teaching her daughter to fly. She also didn't remember she had no idea how to explain Tamaya the rules behind the flight. She didn’t even know the rules behind flying. The only thing on her mind at the time was how cool it would be to have a prodigy friend with a power similar to hers and was as much out of her mind as she was.

"I agree. Now, what case are we working on?"

Tamaya poured her a cup of tea.

"Do you remember Mayor Everhart's first wife?" Georgia remembered and nodded. Her mom had mentioned her, yes. "She went to the hospital when she was about to have her baby, nine years ago, right? She came back, but the baby didn't. Supposedly, he was born dead. Two days later, Mrs. Everhart appears dead in her own home. The cause? Suicide… But, was it really suicide? "

Again, that suspense... And now, mystery. Georgia's two favorite things in one person.


	3. Kasumi: Smiling on a rainy world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now it’s time to see Kasumi’s story. It was difficult to write because I just wasn’t completely satisfied with it, but now I think it’s nice. I liked it. Hope you liked it too. 
> 
> I was thinking maybe this fic would be finished before the end of July, but now I kinda want to keep exploring this strange canon I’ve created and see the six of them interact and actually know each other and became the Renegades and stuff. Maybe I’ll do it, I have some ideas in my head.

**Age of Anarchy**

**Year 6**

She had never been to that area of Gatlon City before. All she could see were buildings falling apart, abandoned shops, walking dead wandering the streets... not a single trace of the ocean.

That was a good sign. The ocean could never catch her now.

The car stopped in front of a five-floor building, full of tiny windows and with a two-meter rusty fence around it. There was a group of children playing in the yard, sitting on the neglected grass. Kasumi tried to hide in her seat.

"We’re here," Mr. Holbrook announced, looking at her in the rearview mirror.

"What place is this?" she asked.

"It is the Gatlon City orphanage for prodigy children.”

He carelessly opened the fence, and the group of children ran into the building as if Mr. Holbrook had pointed a gun at them. Instead of being offended, Mr. Holbrook laughed. Her mom used to say he had a very infectious laugh. Kasumi wondered if that's why they became friends.

A robust, dark-haired lady came out to greet them. Her face lit up as soon as she saw them.

"Evan Holbrook," she muttered, rolling her eyes, "what are you doing here? You smell like fish."

Kasumi was surprised; Mr. Holbrook did not smell fishy at all.

"Hello, Bertha."

Bertha turned to look at Kasumi.

"Welcome, Kasumi," she said. "Let's go to my office."

She was so shocked, she didn't ask how she knew her name.

Kasumi clung to Mister Holbrook's hand as they walked through those narrow corridors, filled with curious gazes. Some whispered among themselves, others made funny faces at her, and there were a few who completely ignored her. They all looked similar to the mysterious characters that haunted the city streets. Dirty clothes, thin faces... but there was a sparkle in them.

Had they noticed Kasumi didn't have that spark?

Bertha's office was small. The only decorations were a dusty carpet and a plastic plant. The wind blew freely through the glassless window, swaying the gray curtains that hung from it. Bertha sat in a chair behind her desk as she invited them to take a seat.

There were a bunch of wooden blocks on the desk.

"You can play with the blocks, Kasumi," said Bertha.

Kasumi take her word and began to build a castle with the blocks.

Then Bertha asked Mr. Holbrook:

"Evan, what happened to Amaya?"

Kasumi would never answer a question that she had not been asked. However, she knew the answer better than anyone.

Amaya and Ryo Hasegawa had been betrayed by the ocean. Just like her.

Only they had not lived to tell the tale.

One night, her parents told her they were leaving Gatlon City. She didn't even have time to be sad or ask where they were going. Her father helped her pack, her mother dressed her in a raincoat and, without further ado, they throw her into the boat.

Kasumi had been in the boat before. On her fourth birthday, she and her parents had a fishing day. After she caught her first fish, her mother, to celebrate, took off her dress and launched into the sea. Her father was scandalized, but Kasumi found it so funny that she begged them to teach her how to swim. By her fifth birthday, she already did it "like a pro," according to her mom.

"Are you afraid?" asked her mother.

"A little bit," Kasumi replied. There was no point lying to her mother. She knew everything.

"Good. A little bit of fear reminds us that we are alive."

"Where are we going?"

"Mmm, let me think ..." She stroked her chin. "I know! How about we go to visit Mrs. Moon?"

"To the moon?"

"She prefers to be called Mrs. Moon, right, love?"

"Right," her father replied with a tiny smile.

"We are going to visit Mrs. Moon?" Kasumi asked.

"Sure, it will be fun," her mother replied.

"But it will also be a long journey," added her father. "Try to sleep."

The first hours were calm. The ocean lulled her lovingly while she dozed on her father's chest. In between dreams, she could hear him say things like that the waves were starting to get big or that he couldn't see the stars anymore. At one point, he even told his wife that it would be best to turn around and wait for the morning.

"No, Ryo," the woman replied flatly. "The ocean is our ally. He would never betray us."

At the time, none of the three knew it, but Amaya Hasegawa had just done something terrible. She had made a mistake.

The drizzle turned into a storm and the boat wobbled frantically. Her father was yelling at her mother, completely out of his mind. She tried to ignore his reproaches, but Kasumi could distinguish the tears that soaked her cheeks with the same intensity that the thick drops of rain that fell from the night sky did.

"Stop!" screeched her desperate mother. "Ocean, stop!" 

“Mom?!”

"Kasumi, help me!" she yelled. "Help me ask the ocean to stop!"

"Stop, ocean!" Kasumi yelled with all the strength left in her. "Stop right now!"

The ocean didn’t stop. He just turned angrier.

She and her mother were screaming and her father was crying out loud, clinging to his only daughter like a lifeguard. Kasumi took his hand.

Maybe if they all asked, the ocean will hear them.

"Repeat with me, Dad," she whispered in his ear. "Stop, ocean."

"Stop, ocean ..." her father muttered between sobs. "Stop…"

Kasumi watched her mother approach them, struggling to keep her balance. Her shoes began to fill with water as the woman gave her family a shaky hug. The last thing she heard before the boat capsized, was a thunder breaking into the sky and the sound of three voices pleading, "Stop."

After that, it was as if she had fallen asleep again.

Kasumi did not remember what had gone through her head during all the time she was dead, but she did remember when she woke up in the arms of a stranger. As soon as she opened her eyes, her head began to hurt and all of her body felt as if it had been hit by a train. The stranger screamed and dropped her heavily onto the sand. She heard three voices, including Mr. Holbrook's, asking the stranger what was going on. Kasumi tried to speak, but instead of sound, what came out of her mouth were jets and jets of water.

The only one who did not hesitate to approach was Mr. Holbrook. He tapped her lightly on the back, and as soon as the water stopped flowing from her, he wrapped her in a tight hug. Kasumi was too stunned and wounded to reciprocate.

"Oh, hun, it's a miracle..." he whispered.

"My parents..." Kasumi stammered.

Mr. Holbrook broke the hug.

"The ocean betrayed them," she blurted out.

"I know, hun. I know."

The following days were somewhat blurred. Mr. Holbrook took her home and told his wife about the situation. They put a couple of blankets on the couch for her to sleep on and asked their daughters (whom they called all three of then "hun") not to disturb her at all.

She spent hours sitting on the couch, watching the Holbrooks' youngest daughter color at the coffee table. She never asked if she wanted to color too and Kasumi didn't want to interrupt her. She looked very focused.

However, one day, the Holbrooks' youngest daughter did speak to her.

"Are you a prodigy?"

"Me?" She nodded. Kasumi had never been asked that question. "Why do you think that?"

"You were dead. But now you're here. Doesn't that seem very ... prodigious to you?"

And continued coloring, as nothing had happened, leaving Kasumi asking herself the same question.

_Are you a prodigy, Kasumi?_

During dinner, she felt her left hand soak up. She looked under the table and noticed that tiny drops were coming out of each of her pores. Not knowing very well what she was doing, she placed her right hand above the left and the drops levitated, moving to the rhythm of her fingers.

Later, when Mr. Holbrook was tucking her in, she told him what had happened at dinner. At first, he was silent. Kasumi thought it was because he hadn't believed her, buT after a few seconds, Mr. Holbrook reacted and promised that they would solve it in the morning.

The morning had arrived. This was the solution.

Kasumi did not realize that the conversation between the adults was over. They shook hands and Berta assured Mr. Holbrook that Kasumi would be safe with them.

When Mr. Holbrook turned, he was smiling, but his blue eyes looked glassy. He got down on his knees and took her freezing hands, nothing to do with Mr. Holbrook's, so warm and comforting.

"Hun, here we part ways," he whispered, gently brushing a lock of hair of her face away. "Behave and don't-"

"I don't want to be here," Kasumi blurted out. "I want to go with you."

"I'm afraid that won’t be possible."

"Why not?"

Mr. Holbrook gave her a slight squeeze.

"There are bad people, Kasumi, that if they find out what you can do, they could try to make you bad, like them," he explained.

"But here we will not let that happen," Bertha chimed in. "Here we are all prodigies, we all take care of each other. No one is left behind, ever. Neither are you."

She looked convinced and fierce. A small old medallion hung from her neck. It looked so familiar...

"I'm going to give you something."

Mr. Holbrook took out of his pocket the same medallion Bertha was wearing. Then, Kasumi remembered where she had seen it: her mother wore it all the time.

She had said it was a friendship necklace.

He split the old medallion in two and put one half in the palm of her hand. The last thing that Mr. Holbrook said to Kasumi was:

"Keep that little head in the clouds, Kasumi. But not too much."

Kasumi did not move from her seat, not even to watch him go. Bertha walked him to the door, returned with a cup of tea, and asked if she needed anything else. Kasumi needed to be alone. Bertha understood and left.

The light coming through the window began to dim quickly. A waning Mrs. Moon watched her from above. Kasumi could imagine herself lying on top of her, receiving all the kisses and hugs that Mrs. Moon could offer her.

Slowly, she approached the window. She clasped her hands together, and with all the faith that was left inside her body, she whispered:

"Mrs. Moon, would you be so kind as to kiss me good night?”

Kasumi was sure she was about to accept doing it, when someone slammed the door open, shooing her and shooing Mrs. Moon.

It wasn't Berta. He was a small, red-haired, freckled boy, barefoot, with a bowl of lentils and huge kitchen gloves in his hands.

The two stared at each other, waiting for the other to break the silence first.

After a minute, the red-haired boy raised the bowl as if it was a trophy.

"Dinner is served!" and put it on the desk.

Kasumi looked at Mrs. Moon once more. She hoped she didn't take it personally that she didn't invite her to dinner.

"Give me a moment, Mrs. Moon..." she whispered.

Silently, she began to eat the lentils. They tasted bland and watery, but al least it was food.

She thought the boy was only there to give her the lentils and go. But then, he sat on the desk and took off his kitchen gloves.

"I’m Evander," said the red-haired boy playing with the woodblocks. "I’m this many years old," Evander raised five fingers from his hand. "How old are you? Let me guess. Are you this old?" and held up the five fingers of his other hand. Kasumi shook her head. "No? Are you… this old?" He dropped a finger. Kasumi nodded. "Nine years, then, okay.” She nodded again. "Do you want to know what I can do?"

"Okay."

Evander showed his hands and colored sparks came out of them, like those from the fireworks that Kasumi had only heard of. Her mom said seeing them was like candy for the soul. And now that she had them in front of her, she could confirm it.

“They are fireworks,” he explained.

“They are candy for the soul,” corrected Kasumi.

“What?”

Kasumi’s face went red. Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice.

Why did she say that?

"I saw that your dad left you here," Evander said.

"He wasn't my dad.”

"Oh. Where are your parents?"

"Where are _your_ parents?"

Evander, not noticing the angry tone in which Kasumi had spoken to him, smiled and pointed at the night sky.

"My parents are there."

"On the moon?"

"No, silly," Evander chuckled. "They are in the stars. Where they belong."

"In the stars ..." she whispered thoughtfully. "Oh, that's why you draw colored sparks from your hands. They are stars."

"You think so?" He was missing a pair of teeth. That just made his smile look even more adorable.

"Definitely. And you know, stars are the real candies for the soul.”

“How do you know so much?”

Kasumi shrugged, mysteriously. 

"Where are your parents?" he asked again.

She looked at Mrs. Moon once more and sighed. 

"The ocean betrayed them."

And Mrs. Moon and the stars answered, “I know, hun. I know.”


	4. Tamaya: Running away from the world that we designed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translating it’s so exhausting. Especially when you have that bitch (Grammarly) constantly telling you “oh ur wrong” and you ask “where?” and the bitch responds “oh im not gonna tell you u r not premium”. So fuck it. Here it is. This was supposed to be Evander’s chapter, but I decided to give this one to Tamaya instead, just for the fun. He can wait, he’s fine. 
> 
> Trigger warning for domestic violence. I tried to keep it as low as possible and it’s a small scene, but I understand if there are people who still can’t handle it, and I’m no one to judge. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!

**Age of Anarchy**

**Year 8**

Tamaya had gone three weeks without human contact. Her parents did not talk to her and she did not talk to her parents. Her mother sent the only remaining servant to bring her food twice a day. Every time he entered the room, Tamaya turned around to avoid making eye contact, because if she did, she would start crying. No one else was going to see her cry ever again.

It all started when Tamaya was flying in her room when her father came in without knocking first. The man was paralyzed and gaped, at the same time that Tamaya lost her concentration and plummeted onto her bed.

Then, her father started yelling at her. Marcus Rae had never been known to be particularly friendly in the way he spoke to other people. She had never heard that man say "thank you" or "please." However, Tamaya had not seen him scream either. At least, not at her. And that was enough to make her cry.

Not only because she was scared, but also because she felt dumb. She had managed to hide her abilities for five years and she had been caught in such a stupid way. Tamaya believed she was smarter, but she was not.

Her father took her by the arm and lifted her from the bed with such abruptness that Tamaya accidentally knocked over a porcelain figure that was resting on her nightstand. His shouting was already so unbearable that she could only make out a few words.

_Freak. Bounder. Idiot._

Her mother ran into the room and asked what was going on.

“Your daughter can fly!" yelled Marcus. "How the fuck did she learn to do it!?”

And so it went on. Her father kept shaking her like she was a rag doll, while the woman begged her husband to calm down, with a trembling voice full of terror.

But he wouldn't stop. Nothing made him stop.

_Freak. Bounder. Idiot._

“Please control yourself!” her mother cried.

In response, her father slapped her on the floor.

"ANSWER MY QUESTION, MELISSA!”

_Freak. Bounder. Idiot._

Melissa lay there, sobbing and holding her cheek. Seeing that his wife was not going to answer him in any way, his father refocused his attention on her. He turned her around and held her tightly by the arms. Then he forced her to walk to the wall and stamped her face against it. With one hand she crushed the back of Tamaya's neck and with the other, he scratched his chin.

_Freak. Bounder. Idiot._

Before she could react, her father tugged on one of her wings, as if he was going to pluck it apart. Tamaya screamed and broke down in tears again.

_Freak. Bounder. Idiot._

Did he hate her that much? Was Tamaya that disgusting to him?

_Freak. Bounder. Idiot._

How could someone do that to their daughter? How ruthless do you have to be?

Was she a monster? Was his father a monster?

Were the two of them monsters?

An electric current ran through her body. Adrenaline seized her veins, giving her the strength to push her father away from her and scream:

“Enough!”

With a wave of her hand, Tamaya fired a bolt of lightning at one of her bookshelves, setting it fire. Her mother reacted and ran to the kitchen for a bucket of water to put the fire out. Her father was not even able to move, nor did Tamaya. She was not concerned about the accident she had caused. Her gaze was fixed on Marcus, and her contempt for him was stronger than any pain and fear she had left.

She wiped one last tear that ran down her cheek.

She may be a freak and she may be a bounder. But she made a promise to herself that she would never be an idiot again.

Melissa quickly put out the fire. They were very lucky that it did not spread to the rest of the room. After the initial impact, her parents stared at her as if they didn't know her. Their eyes seemed to say: “How is it that such a dangerous and violent creature our daughter?”

_It is because you are creatures as dangerous and violent as me._

Now it was Saturday night. Tamaya was sitting on the carpet, surrounded by her dolls. When Georgia asked why she didn't get rid of them, she always blamed her mother, saying she would be very upset if Tamaya threw away such expensive toys.

However, Tamaya did not throw them away because, unlike Georgia, she did keep playing with her dolls. She had conversations with them, brushed their hair, and if her mother managed to get yarn, she would embroider their skirts with details of flowers or birds. In winter, she had even gone as far as to make sweaters for them.

It was a childish hobby for a seventeen-year-old girl, but it was also the only thing that kept her sane. 

_Knock. Knock._

Tamaya looked up at the light catcher. She flew to see who it was.

_Georgia._

“What are you doing here?” she asked through clenched teeth.

“Surprise!”

“Lower your voice,” she scolded her. “My parents could hear you.”

Georgia put a fake padlock over her mouth and made a pleading gesture as she pointed to the latch on the catch. Tamaya rolled her eyes and let her in.

“My mom doesn't know I'm here, but she told me everything,” Georgia explained sitting on the bed. “Which wing was it?”

“This one,” she replied pointing to her right wing, “but it's nothing. It practically healed itself.”

Georgia looked at the circle of dolls on the carpet, stifling a giggle.

“What party are you having?” she asked teasingly.

Tamaya was silent. Georgia realized that her friend was in no mood for jokes and looked down, with a serious expression on her face.

“My mom also told me about your other power,” Georgia whispered.

The blood went to her feet.

“What power?”

“The lighting thing.”

Then, silence. That reunion was nothing like Tamaya expected. She believed Georgia was going to have hundreds of questions and was not going to stop talking. Georgia always had a lot of things to say to her. Most of the time, she did not talk about important issues. It was always about discussions with her mother, gossips going around her school, or about a new book that she had found and that she recommended.

Tamaya was glad Georgia knew how to start conversations. She had no idea.

How her mother had been able to talk about Tamaya's powers with Mrs. Rawle was a mystery to her. Melissa Rae was very concerned with what other people would think of her, something that had never made sense to Tamaya. Was there someone left in that damn city who kept worrying about something as stupid as status?

“Is it true that you almost hit your dad with one? With lighting?”

Tamaya did not want to lie to Georgia. Lying was not her thing. However, she wasn't quite sure about what to tell her exactly. Should it be something like _“Yes, I did it, so what?”_ or something less violent? Something between the lines of: _“Yes ... and I regret it.”_

The thing was, Tamaya had no regrets. She had a lot of time to think about it those past few days and she could never force herself to feel a single shred of regret for her actions. Not even when her mom begged her to apologize to her dad. She just couldn't.

However, it was not until that moment that she realized she wasn't proud of it either. If it had been for her, Georgia would never have known about that little detail of the fight and her powers.

Tamaya already knew that she could control lightning and storms. She had discovered it relatively recently when she was flying and accidentally shot lightning at the ground. It was small and just left a black stain on the fine wood flooring, nothing a rug couldn't hide.

But lighting should not be near people, and Tamaya knew it.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

Tamaya turned to see her. “Pardon me?”

Georgia was frowning and arms crossed. There was reproach in each of the words that came out of her mouth.

“Why didn't you tell me you had more powers?” she asked. “Why didn't you trust me? I thought we were friends.”

“Woah, wait, Georgia,” she interrupted her. “How exactly is this about you?”

“Friends are supposed to talk to each other,” Georgia said. “I always tell you everything that happens to me and you know every last detail about my life. Why don't you tell me what's wrong with you? How many other things do you hide from me? Is our friendship based on lies? Is your name even Tamaya?”

Tamaya was so shocked by Georgia's reaction, she thought she was hallucinating. She noticed each gesture her friend's face made and each movement of her eyes. And she wasn't kidding. Tamaya was not hallucinating. Georgia was seriously mad at her.

“Really?” she asked her. “After everything that's happened to me, somehow I'm the bad guy to you?”

“Yes.”

_The audacity of this bitch._

“How the hell can you be so self-centered, Georgia?” she asked with flushed cheeks. “Do you think this is because I didn't trust you? Did you ever stop to think about how I felt? Doesn't it occur to you that the reason I hid it from you is that I wanted to protect you?”

“Protect me?” Georgia laughed. “Don't be ridiculous, what would you be protecting me from?”

“From myself!”

And Georgia laughed again.

“I was protecting you from myself!” Tamaya insisted. “Stop laughing!”

But she ignored her. Georgia kept on laughing as if it was the funniest joke she had ever heard. It was clear as day that Georgia didn’t care anymore if the whole neighborhood heard her. She didn’t care if they got into trouble.

_And she does not care about you, Tamaya._

Tears welled up in her eyes.

No, no one else was going to see her cry ever again. Not even Georgia.

Without thinking, Tamaya lunged for her friend. She grabbed the collar of her blouse, lifted her ten feet above the ground, and stamped her against the wall. She could feel the electricity on her fingertips, and she was sure Georgia felt it too.

She was no longer laughing.

“Look me in the eyes, Georgia,” she whispered. “Look me in the eyes!”

“I'm doing it,” she replied quietly.

“What do you see?”

“That you have beautiful eyes.”

Tamaya held her tighter. “Aren't you afraid of me? Aren't you afraid of monsters?”

Tears began to flow from Georgia's dark eyes. She put a hand to her mouth and a faint smile of pity appeared on her lips.

“Oh, Tamaya. You are not a monster.”

She had no qualms with people seeing her cry. How pathetic.

She released her.

“Yes I am,” she hissed.

Georgia fell to her feet.

“No, people have convinced you that you are,” she exclaimed, approaching her. “That's what they always say about all of us.”

She reached out to take her hand. Tamaya rose a few inches to not be within her reach. Georgia did not insist.

“And the worst thing is that,” she continued saying, “there are some people who believe them and become monsters. You know, like a certain person who starts with Ace and ends with Anarchy.”

_Oh. Him._

“You know, I think he hates himself. A person who loves themselves would never do the things he does.”

“I don't blame him.”

Georgia pursed her lips. “Why not?”

“If you spend your entire life calling someone a monster, what do you expect them to become?”

Silence appeared again. For a second, Tamaya was pleased with herself for making Georgia run out of arguments.

But Georgia was never run out of arguments.

“That still doesn't excuse it,” Georgia replied. “You are constantly calling yourself a monster inside your head, and you had not become one.”

Tamaya looked at the mirror. Her reflection looked back at her.

“Would you still be my friend if I were a monster?”

“Uh, I don't know,” Georgia shrugged. “But I don't have to worry about it. You will never become a monster.”

“How are you so sure?” she asked defiantly.

“Because you are too strong to become one.”

She wished she could believe her.

No, Tamaya wasn't strong. That room was driving her crazy. She heard no other voice than her own, telling her the most horrible things she could hear every day. The world had never called her a monster because Tamaya's world were those four walls. Those four walls too similar to—

_Oh, God._

Too similar to a monster's cage.

“I have to go,” Tamaya blurted out.

“Go?” Georgia asked in dismay. “But where?"

“I don’t know, but I have to go. Right now.”

Georgia asked no questions when she was helping Tamaya find a backpack, or when she packed Molly away before she began to look for clothes. She didn't even ask questions when Tamaya didn't dare go through the skylight, because she thought she heard her parents asking her not to leave.

However, when she turned around, she realized that no one was there.

She came out.

The air in the outside world smelled like gasoline and rain. The higher she flew, the smaller her house looked. Her neighborhood was the only point of light in that dull city. The buildings looked abandoned and lonely even from that distance.

It was horrible. But it was the world. A new world.

Tamaya allowed herself to laugh. She was so happy that she even dared to flip in the air.

Then, she realized that Georgia was not flying next to her. She was standing on the ceiling of her room, looking at her with teary eyes.

A crazy idea came to her mind.

“You come?” she asked her.

Georgia shook her head. She reached into her pants pockets and pulled out a torn locket. Tamaya reached out to look at it better. It had a missing part, was slightly rusty, and was not made of real gold, but the chain and clasp were intact.

“I found it in the market,” she told her, “with a lady who sold fish.”

“Why would a fisherwoman be selling lockets?” Tamaya asked raising an eyebrow.

“I do not know. It was from her husband, according to her,” Georgia explained. “But now it’s yours."

Tamaya had not worn any jewelry for a long time.

“It looks tragic,” she said.

“It combines with the city,” Georgia replied. Tamaya put on the locket. “Would you forgive me?” she asked. “I was selfish and I shouldn't have blamed you for not telling me. You had your reasons for keeping the secret. I understand if you don't want to talk to me—”

“Stop,” Tamaya ordered. “I'll come looking for you in a couple of days,” she assured her. “If you haven't heard from me by then, I'm dead.”

Her friend shuddered. She didn't know if from the cold or the fear.

“Any advice for the outside world?”

Georgia approached her with a smile and held her hand. “When in doubt, fly.”

Tamaya looked towards the horizon. The doubts did not take long to arise.

“Fine.”

Then, Tamaya flew. And she didn't look back.


	5. Evander: Bring me along to the world you see

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now we have Evander's POV. I think this one is a little bit more accion-y than my previous work??? idk. I need to get used to writing action tho, because my next work is going to have a lot of that. It's going to be kind of a continuation of this fic, but I'll give more details about in the next chapter;))  
> Enjoy, leave kudos and comment!!

**Age of Anarchy**

**Year 9**

_The night is warm and windless. He looks up and tries to beg the moon for help, but he has lost his voice. A mysterious force holds his arms and legs. The only thing he can move is his head._

_The sky is full of stars, red and big as rubies._

"Vandy ..."

_He looked to his right. His father's green eyes meet his. He used to say that seeing his son was like looking in the most flattering mirror. They both had red hair, the same eyes, their teeth slightly apart… they were identical. But his father didn't have freckles. His mother did._

"Are you okay?"

_On the left, he sees his mother. Her blonde hair covers her face, but he can notice her painted lips and perfect liner. She has always been very protective of her makeup. It makes her feel beautiful._

_Evander doesn't understand. His mom is beautiful, even without makeup._

_His mom is beautiful, even when she’s dead._

_"_ Evander ..."

_An ownerless hand puts the barrel of the gun to his forehead. The metal feels hot. The stranger puts his finger on the trigger and is about to shoot when Kasumi shakes him and whispers:_

"Evander, wake up."

Evander woke up screaming and with his heart racing. A layer of cold sweat covered his entire body. Tears began to flow from his eyes and instinctively, he reached for Kasumi's arms and hugged her with all the strength of his body.

"The same nightmare?"

"The same nightmare," he replied.

Kasumi stroked his red locks, while the silence in the room was interrupted by the exasperated moans of the other girls who slept there. Alix approached them with disdain and deep dark circles under her eyes.

He hated Alix. She could look through walls, had just turned seventeen last week, and believed herself to be the leader of the whole place just because she was the oldest.

"You said he wasn’t going to have nightmares anymore, Kasumi," she told her accusingly.

Kasumi shrugged. Evander stuck his tongue out at her.

Three years ago, some Jackals broke into his home during dinner, pointing guns at his parents' heads and demanding answers they didn't have. The first thing his mother did was run at him to protect him, but suddenly, the youngest of the Jackals grabbed him by the collar of his dirty shirt and tried to snatch him away.

However, Samantha Wade was not going to let anyone separate her from her son. She clung to him as if her life depended on it. Evander was too scared and deafened by all the yelling, that he didn't feel his mother's nails digging into his skin. "Don't take my son, please don't kill my baby."

After struggling for a while the boy was able to yank Evander from his mother's arms. The woman let out a brutal scream and that was enough for his father to jump on the Jackal, ready to do everything he could to rescue his son.

The tallest man broke his neck.

He gave a low, hoarse laugh. Evander would never forget it.

"We just need the girl," he explained to the younger jackal. "You take care of the child."

Evander couldn't see his father's body for more than two seconds, because the Jackal took him out to the backyard, sat him on the grass, and ordered him severely:

"Stay still. Unless you want to end up like your dad."

Those words were enough for Evander to overcome his urge to disobey.

He took out of his pocket three fireworks and a lighter.

"Today is Fourth of July, Evander Jr,” he said. "Let’s celebrate.”

Those fireworks were the only thing that lit up that starless night. However, neither their outburst nor their beauty could hide the words that the jackal whispered in his ear:

"Listen to me carefully, kid. You are going to drop to the ground and you aren't going to get up until dawn. In the morning, you'll walk five blocks to the home for child prodigies and you'll tell Bertha that Tom Freud sent you. Now, you will be surrounded by prodigies. Some may be powerful, but you must never to kneel before them. Do you understand?"

How ironic that Evander turned out to be a prodigy. Although no one had knelt before him. Yet.

Tom Freud did not wait for him to respond. As soon as the last spark disappeared, he pushed him to the ground, put his foot on his back, and shouted:

"Stay still!"

The bullet whizzed past his ear. Evander didn't scream, he just obeyed. He stayed still when Freud took his foot off his back. He stayed still when the Jackals left. And he even stayed still when the first ray of the sun illuminated his face.

When he saw the corpses on the kitchen floor, he could only ask himself what would have happened if he had not stayed still.

Every time that nightmare woke him up, he would ask Kasumi the same question. She would only tell him to look out the window.

"Your parents greet you from the stars," she assured. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Wade, hello."

Evander always responded with, “Look, your parents are there too. Hello, Mrs. Kasumi's mom, hello, Mr. Kasumi's dad. How do you say mom and dad in Japanese? "

Then, Kasumi proceeded to teach him some new words and expressions in Japanese. They both liked to put on solemn faces and start saying random phrases in Japanese when they were in public. They knew it was annoying for a lot of people, including Mom Bertha. She said Kasumi's mom used to do the same thing when they were younger when she was mad at her. Mom Bertha seemed sad after telling them this, so they decided not to do it in front of her anymore. Seeing Mom Bertha sad wasn't as fun as watching the older children get angry at them when they refused to explain what they were saying.

"You wouldn't understand," Evander told them, shaking his head with mock seriousness.

"That's right, you wouldn't understand," Kasumi agreed.

If others knew it was just random words and phrases, the game would be over, so they had to keep it a secret. Kasumi confessed that she regretted not being able to learn her parents' first language. However, she made an effort to learn how to say a very specific question. 

Unfortunately, it was a question she had to make very often.

_"Vandy, did you wet the bed?"_

Evander hugged her tighter. Kasumi nodded and began to remove the covers. The girls immediately noticed what happened and started complaining, especially Alix. Evander sat on the corner of the bed, feeling dirty, and humiliated. They all looked at him with disgust and mockery, secreting each other.

Yeah, they didn’t like the idea of Evander sleeping in the same room as them. They said there was a room for boys and a room for girls for a reason. But Mom Bertha wouldn’t hear a word about it. Evander was going to sleep there, whether they liked it or not. 

Why? Because he was a bed wetter and the boys weren’t very nice about it. Neither were the girls, but at least they didn’t start a fight with him when they realize Evander had wet the bed again. 

He looked out the window. Mom Bertha was outside, talking to some men. He couldn't see their faces.

Evander had seen these men before. Sometimes when nightmares woke him up, he would listen to Mom Bertha talking to them. There were times when they yelled at each other, but there were other times when they gave her boxes filled with food and medicine. Kasumi made up the story that they were the guardians of the shadows, protecting the kingdom of the night.

"They look scary," Evander said to her when she told him the story.

"Don't worry, they won't hurt us."

But lately, Evander heard more screams and saw fewer boxes.

She dropped the wet sheets on the floor and handed him some clean underwear. Evander crawled under a blanket to change. Although he had a lot of privacy that way, Kasumi still turned her back on him so as not to make him uncomfortable.

"Kasumi, don't you listen to what we're saying?" Alix asked.

"I’m listening, Alix," she replied shyly.

“Then stop ignoring us. Evander is getting too old to sleep with the girls, he has to go with the boys. "

"But they are going to hit him again," Kasumi said.

“Well, better for him,” Alix replied. "Maybe he’ll finally learn wetting the bed is a horrible habit.”

Evander pulled the blanket off, pointed his finger at Alix, and yelled:

_"You are horrible!"_

Alix opened her mouth to respond and Evander threw his dirty underwear at her face. Kasumi burst out laughing along with the rest of the girls. Alix squealed as Evander started bouncing on the bed yelling _"Horrible, horrible, horrible girl!"_ in Japanese.

He would do anything to annoy Alix and to keep Kasumi laughing. 

When Alix recovered from the shock, she screamed:

"I'm going to kill you, Evander!"

A gunshot. Two gunshots.

Evander put a hand to his chest. Alix hadn't shot him.

Then who shot who?

Alix pushed Evander off the bed and leaned out the window. The shots had come from outside. Her face twisted in horror.

"Mom Bertha..."

All the other girls leaned over to look. Evander tried to push his way through them, but Kasumi quickly caught on and took him away from the scandal.

"Don't look," she whispered. "Please don't look."

"What happened?" he asked innocently. "Who’s shooting?"

"The guardians of the shadows," she replied, taking him by the shoulders, "have turned against us, Vandy."

As if she had summoned them, the guardians of the shadows knocked down the door to the girls' room pointing their guns at them. He and Kasumi hid under the bed, while the other girls screamed and raised their hands. The guardians of the shadows started holding them by their nightgowns and kicking them out into the corridor, not even giving them time to put on their shoes. The same scandal did not take long to begin in the men's room. A few more shots were heard.

And laughs. Low, hoarse laughs.

_It can’t be…_

The room was almost empty when a huge hand grabbed Kasumi by the wrist. Both screamed at the same time. Another hand grabbed Evander's arm and dragged them out of there.

The man was tall, muscular, and bald. A red bandanna covered his face.

Jackals.

"What are your powers!?" he yelled at Kasumi. His friend froze, staring at him with wide eyes and a sealed mouth. "What are your powers!?" he asked again.

More screaming. More demands. More questions they couldn't answer.

Evander tried to free himself from the man's grasp. All he wanted was to hug Kasumi once more. Maybe if he did it hard enough and for the right amount of time, he would be able to wake up.

The jackal growled and tossed Evander onto the bed as if ridding himself of an irritating mosquito. If he had done it harder, Evander would have been thrown out the open window.

The cold breeze gave him chills.

He looked at the window, then looked at his friend. She was still paralyzed and unable to answer the man's question. Kasumi, Evander, and the jackal were the only ones left in the room. Everyone else had gone to the common room.

He looked at the window. Then he looked at his friend.

The jackal drew his pistol and held it to Kasumi's head.

"WHAT ARE YOUR POWERS, LITTLE SLUT?!"

"She doesn’t understand you!" Evander yelled.

The jackal fell silent. Now the gun was pointed at him.

But Evander was not afraid.

"What are you talking about?"

“She doesn't speak English,” Evander explained, looking down. "That’s why she doesn't understand a single word of what you’re saying."

He looked at Kasumi curiously and threw Kasumi onto the bed, laughing. Evander hugged her.

_Wake up, Vandy, wake up…_

"What powers does the little slut have?" he asked Evander.

"I don't know," he replied, "she’s never used them."

"But she’s a prodigy."

"Yes, Mr. Jackal."

Another laugh. "I'm glad. If she wasn’t, I would have to kill her. And it would be a shame to kill such a pretty girl. "

Kasumi hugged him tighter. Perhaps she was also begging that it was all a dream. Or maybe she was more scared than he was.

Evander had to be brave for both of them.

"Do you want me to ask her for you?"

"Huh, now you happen to know Chinese," the jackal sneered.

"No, I know Japanese," Evander corrected.

He gave the loudest laugh of the night. Evander could perfectly visualize him breaking his dad's neck, laughing in the same way...

"Prove it."

Kasumi held his face in her hands. Her gaze seemed to scream at him: _"What are you doing?"_ He had never seen her so confused.

He wished he could tell her what he was thinking. _Kasumi, don't be afraid. Think of this as a story. You know the best stories. Let's make our way out of this. Have a little bit of imagination._

But how could one have imagination at this moment?

" _I... distraction... you window... we escape._ "

He saw his friend's gears moving inside her head. " _Water... waterfall... escape_ ," Kasumi stammered.

" _Window, waterfall, escape_ " Evander repeated with a nod.

Kasumi smiled at him almost imperceptibly. She had understood. Those afternoons of annoying others had helped.

"What's she saying?" the jackal interrupted.

"She says she can heal trees," Evander replied.

"And what do you do?"

"I can control light."

It wasn't entirely a lie.

"And why aren't you wearing pants?"

Evander hadn't realized he was still in his boxers.

"I- I wetted the bed.”

The jackal's laughter echoed in his head. "How old are you? Six?"

"I’m eight, Mr. Jackal.”

The jackal pointed the gun at the old closet in the corner of the room. “Put on clothes, kid. And then go downstairs with the rest. "

Evander hurried to the closet. He grabbed the first pair of pants he could find. They were green and had strange spots on the knees. But he didn't have time to think about that. 

"What are you waiting, bitch? Move,” he yelled at Kasumi.

Kasumi didn’t move.

The pants were too big for him.

"I said move!" and hit her with the pistol’s grip.

Evander ran to get between the jackal and his friend. "Leave her alone!" he screamed.

The jackal raised his hand for a second blow. Both children closed their eyes, preparing for the beating they were about to receive. However, the blow did not come. Something had stopped the jackal.

Evander opened one eye. The jackal stared at him incredulously, his mouth slightly open.

He laughed. "I'm going to kill Freud..."

Then, he loaded his gun, put in on Evander's forehead, and said:

"Hello, Evander Jr. Stay still."

At that moment, Evander knew he couldn't stay still this time. 

He placed both of his hands over the jackal's eyes and fired the most powerful and explosive fireworks he could. The jackal's laugh became a cry of pain so loud that all of Gatlon City could hear it.

Kasumi carried him and created a waterfall that ran down to the fence door of the building. As Kasumi slid both of them to their freedom, Evander looked up at the stars.

He didn't know what would have happened if he hadn't stayed still four years ago. But if he had obeyed this particular jackal tonight, the sky would have one star more.

He loved his parents. But he didn't want to be a star just yet.


	6. Hugh: The world we're gonna make

**Age of Anarchy**

**Year 10**

After going to the comic shop, they walked a mile to reach Joe's Basket. Hugh opened the door and smiled at the man behind the counter. That apparently innocent move gave him an excuse to leave the door open, so an invisible Simon could enter without raising suspicions.

_Follow the routine._

He looked at the few products that remained on the shelves. Probably the owner could not afford more merchandise or the suppliers were robbed. Hugh frequently saw cases of trucks carrying food being attacked by gangs or by Anarchists.

“Not that there is much difference between one and the other,” his aunt once said.

(Hugh repeated the same sentence a few days ago, and Simon found it “dangerously hilarious”.)

The man behind the counter was following him with his gaze as if he suspected Hugh was going to steal something. Most countermen did the same when he came in. They took advantage of that mistrust. Simon went to the other end of the store and put everything he could find (that was among the things allowed to steal) into his backpack, while Hugh distracted them.

He felt an invisible hand touch his shoulder. It was his signal to buy something and get the hell out of there. They never ended a robbery without buying something.

Hugh took a chocolate bar and put it on the counter.

“Two dollars.”

He took out the coins he had in his jacket pocket. Eighty cents.

“I don't have enough.” He smiled at him uncomfortably and turned around. “Sorry for the inconvenience”

“How is your aunt?” he asked him.

Hugh was caught off guard by that question.

“She was your aunt, wasn't she? The lady you came with the other time.”

He could hear Simon thinking, “How could you be such an idiot?”

“Yes. She is fine.”

“I'm glad that she's recovered.”

“She hasn't,” he blurted out.

“What do you mean?”

He didn't know why he had said that.

“We don’t know what she has,” he whispered.

“Why are you smiling?” the counterman asked, disturbed.

“Sorry.” Hugh put on a serious face again. “It's a defense mechanism.”

The counterman nodded.

“I understand. No one can afford medical care these days. Not like there's a lot of hospitals left anyways.”

Hugh laughed. Even if they could afford a hospital, he knew his aunt wouldn’t want to go. “Don't worry, honey, I'll be all right. I'm too stubborn to die.”

“Take the chocolate.”

“No, I couldn't.”

“Don't worry, no one's buying them. You are the first customer I've had today.”

“Really? It seems like everyone does their shopping here.”

“Roaches do,” he replied. “They came last night, took a lot, and paid nothing if you know what I mean.”

Hugh knew what he meant.

“Sorry.”

Simon slapped him on the shoulder.

“Take the chocolate,” insisted the man from the counter. “And tell your aunt I say hello.”

Hugh took it. He would definitely tell his aunt. Surely she would be happy to know the counterman had remembered her.

“Our family has always been characterized by our beauty,” she would say, arranging his blonde curls. It was the same line she said every time someone remembered her name or paid her a vague compliment about her appearance. “When you grow up, you will have all the girls behind you.”

Heather Everhart always was talking about what was going to happen when Hugh grew up. When he was little, she told him “I promise that when you grow up, I’ll tell you everything about your parents.” Fortunately, his aunt Heather wasn’t known as someone who didn’t keep her promises, so during his fourteenth birthday, Hugh walked the streets of Gatlon City, holding his aunt's arm, and wondering if she was taking him to a place where the answers about his past were. All those years, his aunt Heather refused to respond to his questions about them.

And now, he may finally know where he came from.

After a long walk, they arrived at the richest neighborhood in Gatlon City. It wasn’t anything like he had imagined. Yeah, it seemed a lot better than where he lived, but most of the houses were completely abandoned. His aunt walked swiftly without even stopping to admire the pretty houses that remained. Hugh forced himself to follow her example and keep going.

They finally stopped in front of the biggest mansion Hugh had ever seen. Its walls were covered by mold and climbing plants, the windows had been shattered, and the doors were stolen.

“What are we doing here?” he asked.

His aunt Heather pointed at the mailbox. Hugh removed the dust that covered it and revealed the name carved on it.

_Everhart._

“Sit down, Hugh."

"Here in the sidewalk?"

"Yes. Don't worry about messing your clothes." He hesitated. The sidewalk looked unclean and dusty, and he was wearing his newest pair of jeans. "Come on, honey, it's not like you do your laundry."

He finally did it. Anything to get the answer he wanted.

Heather and Hugh Everhart were the richest and most popular kids at school. They did everything together, not only because they were twins, but they were also best friends. Their paths divided when they went to college. She majored in theatre and he studied "something to do with politics". Sometimes he made fun of her for choosing to pursue an art-related career, but she didn't care. Heather loved being a costume designer and was having a lot of work offers from Broadway shows.

When Hugh Everhart became mayor of Gatlon City, the power he now had started to change him, and his views about the prodigies did too. He started a campaign against them, even going as far as to start segregating public spaces and reinforcing the rule against prodigies attending to the same school as non-prodigies.

“It was a rule that already existed, but no one took it as seriously, and some school districts turned a blind eye when they discovered a child was a prodigy,” his aunt explained.

Then, Hugh asked about his mother.

“Oh, Anna was a friend of mine. She played the main role and was the most beautiful woman in the room. I introduced her to your father during the first Broadway productions I worked on. I will always regret that night,” she said. “They felt in love pretty quickly, got married the next year, and then you arrived.” Her smile disappeared. “Anna hadn’t been honest with your dad though.”

“Did she cheat on him?”

“No! No, no, no. Something worse. She didn’t tell him she was a prodigy until you were born.”

Hugh was starting to know how the story was going to end. He wanted her to stop, but at the same time, he wanted to know the truth, even if it hurt him.

So he let her finish.

“Your dad was pissed. He didn’t want anything to do with you, so he forced Anna to let you on my porch. The only thing she told me was she wanted you to be named after your father. Two days later, she died.”

“Did he kill her?”

Suddenly, his aunt stood up, took him by the arm, and started to get away from the house as fast as possible.

“Someone’s watching us,” she whispered.

Hugh looked at one of the houses. In its garden, a young woman was watching them go. They made eye contact, and she smiled. Her hair was curly and her skin was dark and soft. Hugh tried to smile back, but his aunt didn’t let him.

“Don’t look at her." She waited until they were out of the neighborhood to keep talking. “Look, I don’t know if he killed her," she mumbled. "They said it was suicide, and Anna had some problems, but your father and I never spoke again after that.”

Hugh didn’t like to think about his parents now. But it didn't matter, his family was perfect just the way it was. He, his aunt... and Simon.

Simon's dad had just left for work when they arrived. His sister was sitting in the living room, mesmerized by the old television they had. Mr. Westwood had managed to fix an old DVD player and Sophie was delighted with the cartoons she was now able to watch. They had kept the TV at low volume though. That way, the neighbors wouldn’t found out that they had a TV and wanted to break in.

“I'm here, Sophie,” Simon announced.

Sophie turned to see them. Hugh greeted her and she greeted him back. Then, he followed Simon into the basement.

“You shouldn't have stayed that long,” Simon said, dropping his backpack on the floor.

“It would have been more suspicious if it seemed like I was in a hurry to leave, don't you think?” he answered.

“We won’t go back there,” said Simon. “You’ll be recognized again.”

“You're right. I'm too handsome to be forgotten.”

“Nice. I think I'll keep your share of the loot just for that comment.”

“What do we have today?”

Five cans of beans, two of vegetables, one loaf of old bread, and three small boxes of pear juice.

When he first met Simon, Hugh was shocked to hear him say, “Now that I'm a prodigy, I'll be able to steal better.” First, he laughed, thinking it was a joke, but Simon remained serious.

Shortly afterward, his aunt's hand-made carpet business started to lose clients. All the money they could get was used to pay the bills. Hugh had never been so hungry in his life, so he asked Simon if he could help him get food.

“I could,” he replied with a shrug, "but you wouldn't like the way I get food, and I don't have any other idea."

“I will love any idea you have.”

_Even if it means stealing._

“You will call the police if I tell you.”

“What police?” Hugh asked.

That the first time he heard Simon’s laugh. It was as wonderful as the first time he saw him smile.

“It's Sophie's birthday tomorrow, so I want the juice boxes,” Simon said. “It’ll be my gift”

Hugh did not answer. He still had his mind on Joe's Basket.

The store was empty because the Roaches were there. He imagined the terror the man behind the counter must have felt. Had a gun been pointed at his head? Did they hit him? Did they hurt him in any way? Did they threaten his family?

How long would it take to realize that things were missing from the shelves? Some never did, but once a lady noticed a bag of flour was missing as soon as they left her store. She grabbed Hugh's arm and demanded that he return what he had stolen from her. Luckily, Simon was carrying everything, and no one could see him. After several screams and threats, Hugh managed to convince the lady that he had taken nothing and let him go.

The man at the counter had no idea what he was doing when he gave him that free chocolate bar. He was giving his merchandise to a thief. Surely he would feel betrayed. He had had an act of kindness with someone, and that was how they paid him?

“Well, you can keep one box of pear juice,” said Simon, holding it out to him, “and a half loaf of bread. I would prefer that you keep all the vegetables. Sophie makes a big fuss when it's the only thing to eat.”

Hugh got out of his thoughts and took the chocolate out of his pocket.

“Here. It's for you."

Simon did not hesitate to accept it. He broke it in half and gave him the largest piece. It was a great sacrifice on his part because Simon loved everything that had chocolate. It was difficult to get, but every time Hugh saw it in a store, he bought a bar for Simon, and every time, Simon share it with him.

He wiped away the remnants of candy on his pants before taking the new Wonder Man number out of the paper bag. He sat down on one of the old cushions in the corner of the basement and began to read it.

Simon gazed at him with curiosity. Hugh noticed it but said nothing. He knew that Simon had no interest in the plot of _The Fantastic Adventures of Wonder Man_. He preferred _The Scarlet Enchantress and the Phantom Feline_ , and read nothing but that, although they no longer produced any more numbers. Its creator had been killed after drawing the Scarlet Enchantress attacking Ace Anarchy with an energy hit.

Simon sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“Why are you so quiet?” he asked.

“I'm not.”

“Does it have something to do with the Roaches?”

He adjusted his glasses. They were already starting to cause excruciating headaches. Hugh really needed new ones.

“I do not like it either.”

“I know,” said Hugh. “I've never thought otherwise.”

“Well, you have a very curious way of showing it.”

Hugh opened one of the pear juices and raised his eyebrows.

“There is something you don't know about me, Westwood.”

“What thing, Everhart?” he asked with a frown.

He left the juice on one side and the comic book on the other. Then, he went to the shelf where they kept a box full of the comics they bought. Hugh took out the blue mask of Wonder Man his aunt made for him and put it on with a mysterious air, cautious so that Simon did not see him doing it.

“Hugh—”

“I'm not Hugh... I'm Wonder Man!” he exclaimed turning around. “And your kingdom of chaos is over!”

Simon was startled, but he immediately started to laugh and took his black Phantom Feline mask from the box. He put it on awkwardly as he climbed onto the table and picked up a red cloth to use as a cape.

“I would like to see you try it, Wonder Man,” Simon purred mysteriously covering his face with the cape. “But you will have to catch me first.”

Hugh created handcuffs with his powers and Simon vanished.

Silence invaded the room. He had to be very aware of each sound. Even the slightest movement could give away Simon's position and make Hugh the winner of the fight for Gatlon City that was unfolding inside their heads.

Hugh was the one who came up with the game. It all started because they argued over who would win in a fight: Wonder Man or the Phantom Feline. Simon was convinced that the Phantom Feline would end Wonder Man in a matter of seconds, because “Wonder Man was too stupid to find Phantom Feline when he turned invisible.” Hugh replied that the Wonder Man was extremely intelligent and that the Phantom Cat was no match for him.

“And I will prove it to you.”

Since then, they put on their masks and pretended to be Wonder Man and Phantom Feline whenever one of them was sad or upset. Like when Hugh's aunt was in bed for three days and her fever did not go down, or when Simon's father lost one of his many jobs and refused to speak to his children.

“Don't you think you're a little old to play like that?” Mr. Westwood asked them.

“Not at all,” they replied at the same time.

Hugh heard a rustle to his left. He turned, and before he could react, the handcuffs were snatched from his hand and he was thrown onto the cushions in the corner.

Simon put him the handcuffs and place his foot on Hugh’s chest.

“And the Phantom Feline takes control of Gatlon City in record time!” he exclaimed with an evil laugh.

“I will end with you, villain!” Hugh growled.

Simon took his razor out of his pocket and placed it just above the heart.

“Any last words?”

Hugh looked at him with determination. “Long live to justice.”

Simon nodded and stabbed him. The razor blade fell at the same time that Hugh played dead.

“Evil has triumphed. It always does,” Simon whispered, staring into the distance dramatically.

Hugh turned to look at the back cover of the comic book he'd left on the floor.

He was nothing like him. Wonder Man was stronger, taller, and did not wear glasses that were not from his graduation. He had dark skin and brown eyes, hiding his identity behind a blue mask and a tight uniform. On the back cover, he stood on a pile of villains defeated by him, his chin up and a silver spear nailed to Ace Anarchy's iconic gold helmet.

His blood went to his feet.

“Simon—“

“I saw it too,” he replied. He knelt and removed the handcuffs. “Now you will no longer find out what happened to Wonder Man at the end of the story.”

Hugh kept staring at that image. The spear. The helmet.

And he smiled.

“In the end, he beats Ace Anarchy.”

“Hugh, accept it. There will be no end,” said Simon, shaking his head. “He will never beat Ace Anarchy.”

“Maybe he doesn't,” Hugh muttered. “But what if we did?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of my first fic The Origins. I hope you liked it, because I had a really fun time writing it! I'm gonna start a continuation this month. The title is going to be The Rise of the Renegades, and it's going to be about the first year of these guys as the Renegades, how they teamed up, and stuff. I almost finish the outline!! But I have to finish Beginnings and Endings first lol  
> Follow me on Tumblr @obsidianfr3ak. Leave kudos and comment!! Keep it weird;)


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